


i closed my eyes and i slipped away

by notthebigspoon



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 08:04:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/648375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He goes and gets a haircut. He wears a dark red shirt that always seems to get him more attention than any of his other clothes do. He wears the cologne that makes even him want him. He makes the effort because even if he hadn’t wanted to go along at first, he doesn’t do blind dates, he wants to give this a shot because you never know what’s going to happen. What might be waiting around the corner. He doesn’t want to just throw the towel in.</p><p>    Except maybe he shouldn’t have tried at all because he smiles and Buster Posey just stares at him before turning around.</p><p>Title taken from More Than a Feeling by Boston.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i closed my eyes and i slipped away

**Author's Note:**

> For theheartsfriend, my favorite muse. I love you darling!

He goes and gets a haircut. He wears a dark red shirt that always seems to get him more attention than any of his other clothes do. He wears the cologne that makes even him want him. He makes the effort because even if he hadn’t wanted to go along at first, he doesn’t do blind dates, he wants to give this a shot because you never know what’s going to happen. What might be waiting around the corner. He doesn’t want to just throw the towel in.

Except maybe he shouldn’t have tried at all because he smiles and Buster Posey just stares at him before turning around. His shoulders slump and he shakes his head, mumbles something that Mark can’t hear. It’s a little depressing and a little rude and he feels like there’s ice in the pit of his stomach. He’s never been so obviously rejected before and he’s been rejected a lot in the past.

“Well... could at least say hi before you go.” He says to Posey’s back (and very broad shoulders) before draining his beer in one shot.

“Sorry, just...” Posey’s voice draws out the last word as he turns around and Mark has to fight the urge to lick his lips. That southern drawl sounds even better in person. “I don’t know if this is a joke or what but tell fucking Rodriguez and Jeter it’s not funny. Later.”

“Didn’t know it was supposed to be a joke.” Mark frowns, biting his lip. It actually hurts a little to be dismissed outright. He lets go of the hurt as soon as it comes. Easiest way to move on is to hide behind a smile. He flashes one at Posey, shrugging. “Well, my loss, right?”

There’s something in Posey’s eyes that gives him a tiny spark of hope. He doesn’t know what it is, can’t quite identify it, but the kid nods slowly and slides into the booth across from him. He flags the waitress down and orders a whiskey. Mark raises an eyebrow before shrugging and doing the same. Probably both of them could use a little liquid courage.

Whether it’s the whiskey or what, he’s not really sure. What he does know is that he starts to relax. Posey’s as nice and unassuming of a person as he always looks like on TV and in interviews. He doesn’t believe his own hype. He admits to a crush on Lincecum that he never could explain to himself. How he wasn’t sure about going along with Lincecum setting him up with someone because the guy’s about as stable as a house of straw.

Mark nods, laughs, tells him he knows exactly what he’s talking about. They might take care of business on the field and Jeter might have the best work ethic that Mark has ever seen but they’re still goofballs and their off the field shenanigans have been known to end in messes that take custodians days to clean up. Not to mention their own love life hasn’t always been that stable in the past. The fact that they hooked up with Tim Lincecum is case and point.

He thinks that maybe he’s supposed to take Posey to a movie or something after buying him dinner but they end up wandering the streets of New York without aim, discussing life, the universe and everything. Their kids, their families, the way they have to look after their respective teammates because sometimes, if left to their own devices, they would implode.

It’s not until Posey looks up and says ‘huh’ that Mark realizes how long they’ve been roaming the city. A ticker-feed wrapping around a building declares it four in the morning and they’d met up at eight. He can’t help feeling disappointed. It’s been amazing. Posey is beautiful, smart and just fun to be around in general. Mark doesn’t want the night to end.

He wonders if Posey’s going to decide it’s time for him to go, worries he is, and decides he’s not having it. When Posey looks up at him, he steps in and tilts his head down, kissing him and not giving half a damn that they’re in public. He doesn’t care who sees. Posey must not either because he makes a soft noise and presses in close, one hand gripping Mark’s bicep.

When they both have no choice to break apart, the need for oxygen overwhelming anything else, Mark pants softly. He can’t help the blinding smile, doesn’t know if he can stop smiling. Posey must like it though, because he has a look in his eyes that Mark definitely recognizes this time. He pulls Mark back into another kiss, harder this time and deeper.

“Come home with me.” Mark whispers. He doesn’t even worry he’s making the wrong move, he knows he’s not.

“Yeah... yes. Yes.” Posey answers. He looks dizzy and happy and giddy all at once.

They hail a cab and it’s fifteen minutes with late night traffic from where they’re picked up to his apartment building. They can’t quite seem to stop kissing, although it lacks the frantic quality that other hookups have held for Mark. It’s slow, exploratory, hands roaming each other’s bodies and not giving a shit that there’s someone else in the car.

He tosses cash at the driver when they reach his building, taking Posey’s hand to help him up out of the cab. He doesn’t let go when they pass the doorman or when they’re crossing the lobby. In the elevator, he uses the grip to draw Posey close and kiss him again, free hand sliding into the younger man’s hair, every soft noise the catcher makes flooding him with warmth.

He opens the door and gestures Posey in ahead of him, locking the door behind him. He’s just pitched his wallet and keys at the bowl on the hall table when he’s pulled into another kiss. He slides an arm around Posey’s shoulders and draws him in close, smiling into the kiss when the younger man starts unbuttoning his shirt. They move down the hall that way, slowly discarding one piece of clothing at a time and periodically pressing each other against the wall for more kisses and touches.

When they tumble onto the bed, they’re both naked and every touch of Posey’s skin against his own feels electric. He smooths his hands over the thighs, can’t not because he’s always had this thing for catchers and their thighs. They’re magnificent and Posey especially so. He kisses his way down the younger man’s chest, mouths at his skin, tastes it. When he trails his tongue up Posey’s dick, the younger man whimpers and when he takes him into his throat, Posey makes a strangled noise and fists his hand in Mark’s hair. Mark would smirk if his mouth wasn’t so full.

Posey’s hips roll up and Mark reaches a hand up, presses it flat on his stomach and pins him down. The hitching moans, frustrated whimpers and the way he tugs Mark’s hair are almost enough to get Mark off right then. He teases, draws it out, anything to get more noises. He brushes his fingers over Posey’s hole, pressing against him but not pushing in. Posey’s hips snap up in spite of the hand pinning him, driving his cock into Mark’s throat.

He pulls off, laughs raspily and rubs Posey’s thigh again. “Tell me what you want.”

“You.... want you.” Posey pants, staring and licking his lips. He looks a little uncertain, like he’s asking for too much. Mark wonders what he’d say if he knew that Mark is going to let him have anything he asks for right now, anything at all. “Want to fuck you.”

Mark nods and licks at his dick again, kisses up his body and presses their lips together before leaning over to the night stand, grabbing the lube and condoms. He drops it into Posey’s hand, kisses him again and tells him if wants it, he has to take it. The blush hits the kid high in his cheeks but he does it, slicking his fingers and pressing one into Mark, straight up to the second knuckles.

He moans, arches into it, and Posey looks both startled and pleased. It’s unbearably adorable but Mark can’t smile, not with Posey fucking him open with two broad fingers, mumbling into the kiss that he can’t believe he’s doing this. Mark could say the same thing. When Posey’s fingers slip free, Mark slicks the condom down onto his cock, before rolling onto his hands and knees.

Posey’s grips his hip with one hand, uses the other to guide himself into Mark’s body. He’s big, stretching Mark wide open with slow rocks of his hips. He’s groaning low in his throat, swearing and Mark’s name, low and guttural. He snaps his hips back into it, whimpering every time Posey thrusts into his body. He drops onto his elbows, looking over his shoulder at Posey. The younger man is watching him with dark eyes and when their gazes lock, he pulls out of Mark, pushes at him until Mark turns onto his back.

He hitches one of Mark’s legs over his hip, pushes straight back in and fucks him, harder and impossibly deep. He’s never felt so full and he’s never been fucked like this. He doesn’t know if Posey has ever been with a man before but he sure as hell knows how to make Mark fall the fuck apart. He grips the bed sheets and his toes curl. When Posey leans down and kisses him, he bites at the younger man’s lips, curls a hand around his own dick and jerks himself off, panting Posey’s name as he comes, back arching clear off the bed and eyes rolling back into his head.

Posey groans and the kiss turns filthy, fingers digging bruises into his skin as he fucks into Mark’s lax body. He bites his lip, comes moaning and grinding his hips against Mark’s ass. He slumps onto Mark, kissing him lazily, hands roaming Mark’s body, touching touching touching and looking Mark over like he can’t really believe just what happened. He pulls out of Mark, knots the condom and pitches it at the waste basket before collapsing onto his back on the other side of the bed.

Mark pants, glances at him and clears his throat. “So... was it good for you?”

Posey stares at him before bursting into a fit of laughter, shaking his head and rolling over enough that he can kiss Mark again. When Mark tells him to stay the night, he nods, cleans the both of them up with a discarded shirt. He curls up facing Mark, their legs tangled together and their heads all but occupying the same pillow. When Posey’s arm circles his waist and his lips press a kiss to Mark’s shoulder, Mark lets his eyes drift shut and he smiles.

He owes Jeter and Rodriguez a thank you.


End file.
